


K-I-S-S-I-N-G

by afteriwake



Series: Sherlolly Spring Fling - April/May 2017 [31]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Kissing Booths, Mary Has a Plan, Minor Mary Morstan/John Watson, Molly Hooper/Mary Morstan Friendship, Molly's Reputation, Moriarty Is A Dick, POV Molly Hooper, Poor Molly, Sherlock Has A Crush, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, University Student John, University Student Mary, University Student Molly, University Student Moriarty, University Student Sherlock, Village Faire, past Molly Hooper/Jim Moriarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Molly made a mistake in dating James Moriarty, and he wanted to make sure she pays for refusing him by tarnishing her reputation. When that didn’t work he moved on to ruining her charity kissing booth at the village faire, but Mary had her own plans to stop that, with a little help from her boyfriend’s friend, Sherlock Holmes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a fic written for **rainmyselfinharmony** in the countdown to my 900th Sherlock fic, and she had requested a Sherlolly and Molliarty fic. I went with an AU idea inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr in a collection of AUs (" _met at a charity kissing booth au_ ") so I hope it's enjoyed.

“Don’t know why you talked me into the kissing booth, Mary,” Molly said with a sigh, stapling yet another glittery red heart that the students at the local primary school had decorated for their favourite volunteer. She should have known Mary would rope her wee ones into doing the decorating for the booth, because she had a way with them. When uni was over, she was going to make a great teacher, Molly knew it.

Of course, for her, she just wanted uni to be over. As soon as possible. Now would be rather nice. Anything to avoid _him_.

“Oh, come on,” Mary said, looking between a pink heart with multiple hearts drawn in glue and covered in different colored glitter and a white heart with “XOXO” written on it in Mary’s own perfect penmanship. In the end, she went with the glittery one and stapled it on her side. “You can’t avoid every living person on campus because the bastard said you--”

“Are as cold as a halibut on ice?” she muttered. She knew it was utter tripe, of course; she and the bastard had some rather heated moments. He’d even managed to get his hand up her skirt at one point. The last point. She wasn’t that kind of girl. A bit of kissing was fine and all, but a shag with someone who she had the feeling was seeing other girls on the side?

It wasn’t like she was waiting for marriage, just...commitment. That was what she wanted most. Trust and commitment.

“I still say you should have let me shoot him,” Mary said.

“And the archery team would have had my arse for having their star kicked off for attempted homicide,” Molly said, though it brought a smile to her face. She knew her roommate cared. That made her feel better. She’d blown off her own boyfriend the last few weeks to be there with her as she moped, and she knew John was fine with that. In fact, she knew John had had words with the bastard, too. Him and his best mate, some bloke she hadn’t had the chance to meet. Old friend from primary, just transferred. Had a bit of trouble at his other university. Something about deducing an affair between the university president and the treasurer and an embezzlement? John said in an effort to keep the lid on the scandal there were quiet retirements and Holmes was sent to a more prestigious university.

Theirs.

But whatever was said, she was at least spared rumours flying around campus. She was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure who had said what, but it had made things easier.

“Hello, love.”

She dropped the stapler as the familiar brogue sent ice through her veins.

“You! Get the bloody hell away from the booth!” she heard Mary shout at the bastard.

“Can’t drive paying customers away,” James said, and Molly didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smirking. “Maybe if I pay for a kiss it’ll be...lukewarm. Room temperature, if I’m lucky.”

“I’ll take your money when Hell freezes over, pigs fly and elect a bloody git like...like...” Molly turned to see that Mary was nearly red in the face with anger. “That upstart Magnussen Prime Minister!”

“Oh, you’ll take my money,” James said. “You’ll see.” He gave them a wave and sauntered off.

Molly collapsed on the stool they’d be sharing later. “Oh, bloody hell,” she said. “He’s got a plan. And I bet that plan involves my reputation in tatters by the end of the day and me having to snog him just to earn enough to...”

“ _No_ ,” Mary said adamantly. She slammed her stapler down on the wooden part of the booth separating kisser from kissee. “You’ll see. The bastard may think he has a plan but he’s met his match. Keep decorating, love. I’ll be back.”

Molly nodded and watched Mary walk off in the opposite direction of her ex, and after a moment pulled herself up off the stool with even less enthusiasm before. She didn’t know what she had ever seen in the bastard. He had been charming, said all the right things, treated her to nice dinners for a university student...all to get in her knickers. And she hadn’t fallen for it and his vicious nature had shown through and now it was all a mess.

The booth was nearly completely decorated when Mary came back, her boyfriend and someone she didn’t know in tow. She looked up at the new bloke and saw he had a very serious demeanor, curly near black hair and the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. The colour seemed to shift as he moved, from blue to green to grey and she was so mesmerized she missed what Mary was saying.

“...so you and Holmes are going to go off and John and I are going to man the booth. Holmes is paying a thousand pounds for the privilege of your company and I don’t give two shits how much the bastard was planning to spend to get all your kisses, we’ll raise more money for charity with you have a day _away_ from the kissing booth then we will dealing with his shite.”

“Umm...what?” Molly asked, pulling her gaze away and flushing slightly.

Mary smirked. “Go enjoy the village faire, love. We’ve got it covered here.” She made a shooing motion with her hands and then physically turned both Holmes and Molly away from the booth and towards the rest of the festivities.

“I fear it’s all a bit early,” he said when they began to move away. “Nothing to pique our interest yet.”

“No, I suppose not,” she replied. It finally registered what Mary had said about how much this day at the faire was costing her companion. “You’re paying a thousand pounds to spend the day with me?”

“It’s for a good cause,” he said with a slight shrug. “And it’s hush money anyway. Better spent on something worthwhile than keeping a dirty secret.”

“I heard bits of it all,” she said. “From John. Are you really…?” She wasn’t sure how to ask.

He was quiet for a moment and then gave her a small smile. “Perhaps we could see if there is someplace with coffee and a decent breakfast available while we wait for the festivities to begin? And then we could begin to know each other a little better.”

She nodded, smiling back. “I would like that very much,” she said, smiling back. This could be interesting, she thought to herself. This could be interesting indeed...


	2. Chapter 2

They found a cozy little spot that had pastries and coffee and, in view of it being the village faire and all, full Englishes for a bit of a cost, with all the proceeds going to the local children’s hospital. She hadn’t thought she’d have an appetite at all when the bastard had come to the booth but suddenly she realized just how little she’d eaten over the last few weeks. She had never been the type to drown her sorrows in booze or food, though she might have overdone the wine a _tiny_ bit since the disparaging remarks were made. But appetite? No, that had been less for some time.

And here she was with a rather handsome bloke and she wanted to stuff her face with a full English while he paid a thousand pounds to rescue her from a sticky situation.

He must have caught the look on her face because he nodded to the sandwich board showing the deal. “I’m in the mood to be charitable today. Two of those sound like a good deal. Plus there’s unlimited coffee.”

She grinned back at him. “You must have heard my stomach rumble at the smell of the back bacon wafting out.”

“A bit,” he said with a gentle smile. “And Mary told John that she was worried you’d starve if your moping went on much longer.”

“She worries too much,” Molly said, shaking her head. 

“She worries just enough,” he said. “I’ve barely spent any time with her and I see it with John. She’s a nurturing sort.”

“That she is,” she said, getting to the door and opening it. There was a larger crowd than she was used to seeing in the establishment, which meant it might be some time before they got their food. But apparently, the staff had set up a coffee station for customers once they placed an order, so she and Sherlock placed theirs and wandered to the coffee station to make a cup. “This was a good idea.”

“The breakfast or the coffee station?” Sherlock asked, taking two paper cups and pouring coffee into them before handing her one. 

“Both,” she said. She found some flavored syrup and added a bit of Irish crème flavored syrup to hers with some cream and sugar. She watched Sherlock put two sugars into his coffee before topping it off with a lid and taking a sip. “How does it taste?”

“Not too bad. Hot, but not too hot, and on the strong side.”

She added a little more sugar to hers and then stirred it all together before taking a lid that Sherlock handed her. They had been given a number t put on the side of their table so the staff would know who to bring the food too. There were a few optional additions to the full English that the cafe was offering, and both she and Sherlock had gotten much the same additions. She’d decided to have some hash browns American style instead of fried spuds, but other than that they had nearly the same order. It showed he had good taste.

“So,” she said as they got settled.

“So,” he said. “I suppose you’re curious as to what I meant by hush money.”

“A bit, yeah,” she said.

He picked up his coffee and instead of leaning back to drink it he leaned forward, as though this was a secret he was sharing only with her. “There’s more to the scandal then John knows. It involved embezzlement, staff shagging students, grade fixing...there was a lot of things going on that the university didn’t want to be aired. All sorts of dirty laundry. And I, being an investigative reporter for the student newspaper, had every intent to air it.”

“You discovered it all on your own?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Well, I had a lead most people would have ignored. I would occasionally do work for the local paper, and my mentor, Lestrade, persuaded me to cultivate sources among the highest of society and the lowest of society. One of my sources was a madam. She had a university student in her employ who was being shaken down by a professor because the professor thought she had videotaped a session. When he got violent, Irene came to me instead of going to the police. She didn’t want justice. She wanted to bring the whole organization down, and her employer was more than willing to help. She didn’t appreciate a man raising a hand and striking one of her employees, no matter how powerful he thought he was.”

Her eyes grew wider if that was at all possible. “Wow. That’s even more impressive than what I originally thought.”

“Well, I got her her revenge,” he said. “It cost me my education at that university, but the man is sacked and any university he goes to will know exactly why. That was my price for not running the story. The money was just a bonus. I gave Irene half of it but it still left me a student of independent means.”

“Most people wouldn’t have given half the money away,” she said.

“There would have been no story if it hadn’t been for Irene wanting revenge,” he said. “I felt it was only fair. Last I heard, she transferred to an art institute in Paris. Probably best for her; she was incredibly talented. I gave one of her pieces to my brother for his office. I have another for myself.”

“What did she paint?” Molly asked. 

“She was a post-impressionist,” Sherlock replied before having more of his coffee. “She’s quite skilled. I plan on selling my picture when she’s more well known and investing in my side business.”

“What side business?”

“Consulting detective,” he said. “While I enjoy investigative journalism, I want to do more. Solve crimes and all that, but not for a constabulary. Too boring.”

“Well, if my opinion matters, I think you’ll do just fine,” she said with a smile. “You have a kind heart and a sharp intellect. It’s a lethal combination in an investigative field.”

“My kind heart might be my downfall,” he pointed out.

“I doubt it,” she said with a smile before having more of her coffee. “I think you’ll temper it enough with a realistic view of the world so you won’t get conned.”

“I that so?” he asked, his small smile growing larger. “Let me guess: psychology is your field of study?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Forensic sciences. But I do take the occasional psychology course for fun. And occasionally profit.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“I write a column for the local newspaper. If you see the ‘Ask Agnes’ column, I would be Agnes.”

“It seems that a good heart is true for both of us, then,” he said. “As well as an interest in journalism.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “I wonder what else we have in common?”

“Perhaps we can start comparing while we wait for breakfast,” he said, having more of his coffee.

“I’d like that,” she said, her smile widening and getting a smile in return. This boded well for the day, she thought. 

Or at least she hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

Their breakfast was every bit as delicious as she had hoped it would be, even if it did take a little while to get to them. Sherlock seemed to dig into his meal and didn’t mind there being periods of silence as they both ate. The silence was companionable, and it was nice. Nicer than any of the meals the bastard had taken her to, to be honest.

She didn’t want to think about him, but in the back of her mind whatever his plan was lingered in her thoughts. He wasn’t violent, per se, but he was vicious. Nasty, even. When he found out John had replaced her at the booth, what would he do then? This charity had been chosen by the children Mary worked with, and she hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. But Moriarty was the type who didn’t give two cares to anyone other than himself, she’d realized once he’d turned on her. He’d ruin Mary’s booth if it was the last thing he did, she knew it.

As they finished their breakfast, she got the feeling he could tell when some of her silence was because she was contemplating the situation as opposed to the breakfast. “The faire should be starting soon,” he said as he sopped up the last of his beans with toast. “Do you want to stop by the booth before we look around?”

She felt a bit embarrassed. “Am I that obvious?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m just very observant,” he replied.

“I would like that,” she said. “But I promise, I’ll try and worry less. I don’t want to make you regret doing this.”

“I wouldn’t even if you spent the whole time worried,” he said. “John said the organization Mary picked does a lot of good so if the money I didn’t earn helps them, a thousand pounds is no loss. And I get to spend it in good company. I gather that’s more of a win-win situation than most people get.”

“At least you think I’m good company,” she said.

“I assumed as much just on the glowing things John has said about you. He respects you greatly.” He ate the last of his food. “And I’ll admit, he got me intrigued by you. Given some time, I think there would have been a matchmaking attempt by either him or Mary. I am...rather socially inept, according to John.”

“You don’t seem to be that way to me,” Molly said.

“You’re the first woman I’ve had breakfast with who’s thought so,” he replied.

“And how many women have you had breakfast with?” she asked.

“Ten. Mostly for business, though, so you don’t need to assume I’m a lothario. I’ve had one actual date my entire time in uni and it...did not end well.”

“Well, perhaps your luck will change,” she said with a reassuring smile, adding in her head _Perhaps with me_.

“Perhaps it will.” When she finished her food he nodded towards the coffee center. “Another cup for the road?”

“Sounds good,” she said with a nod of her own. They stood and prepared another cup of coffee each and then left the cafe, which had filled up even more with their arrival. Based on the number of people in the street nearby and heading to and from the village green, she assumed that by now the village faire had started. She and Sherlock gripped their coffees tighter as they walked with the heavy flow of foot traffic back to the kissing booth. There was a small crowd gathered, and Molly relaxed. The idea of a man and woman doing the kissing had been better, she thought, though she saw the entire archery team was on Mary’s side, both male and female, and they all held a handful of tickets.

“See? All is well,” Sherlock said. He grinned a bit more and then got into Mary’s line, leaving Molly to chuckle.

“Oi! No kissing my girlfriend, Sherlock!” John called over.

“Just on the cheek, John. I’ll toss in another hundred quid for the opportunity.”

“For a hundred quid you can kiss my cheek,” John said with a laugh.

“Done,” Mary said. “Two hundred quid for charity!” There was a cheer from the crowd, and Sherlock was ushered to the front of the line. He slipped a hundred pound note into Mary’s bucket and then leaned over to kiss her cheek before repeating the same actions with John. Molly saw some of the other people in line digging out extra money after Sherlock was done, and she relaxed even more.

“All for a worthy cause,” Sherlock said as he got over to Molly again. 

“Well, I suppose we should buy some of those tickets and have a look around,” Molly said.

“I suppose so,” Sherlock said, reaching over for her hand. She looked up at him. “In a crowd this size it’s easy to get lost.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, squeezing his hand gently.

“I’m glad,” he said, giving her the widest smile he’d given her so far before she retaliated by tugging him towards the tickets. This could be the most fun she’d had in an age, she thought to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

The two of them wandered around the faire, hand in hand. That was another thing that was different than it had been with Moriarty; he never liked to be in public with her where it appeared that they were a couple. She figured out later it seemed he wanted to appear single because there were other girls who he noticed and wanted to be with, girls who would give him what he wanted.

Unlike her.

She had her own pocket money to spend and bought a few snacks, and Sherlock bought the other things she seemed to have her eye on. She protested at first but as each booth was either a local artisan of some sort or someone donating proceeds to charity, it was all money well spent, he argued. Eventually, she stopped protesting and just enjoyed the attention.

He had just shown remarkable skill at a water gun shooting game, having won her a ridiculously large teddy bear that was at least half his size, when a breathless John showed up, panting. He bent over to catch his breath and then looked at them. “Moriarty...trouble...”

Sherlock got a stony set to his face and looked at John. “What is he doing?”

“He...he’s demanding...Molly...for kisses,” John said.

“I’m not kissing him again!” Molly said.

“Nor should you have to,” Sherlock said. He handed her the teddy bear and then made his way towards the kissing booth. Molly quickly followed with John right behind her.

“What is he going to do?” Molly asked John.

“I don’t know, but it could get ugly,” John said. “Sherlock doesn’t have an obvious temper, but when he sets his mind to it, he can be brutal.” He hurried to keep up with Molly. “One time he nearly put a bloke in the hospital for disrespecting a teacher he was fond of. And he was ten when this happened. I don’t want to know how much more fight training he’s had over the years.”

“Quite a bit!” Sherlock called over his shoulder.

“Oh bloody hell,” Molly said, quickening her pace to meet up with Sherlock. “Jim is the type to press charges. He’s an absolute git.”

“I’ll handle it,” Sherlock said, stopping so suddenly that Molly nearly collided into him. “I promise, it will only end badly for the bastard.”

“Please don’t do anything that will get you hurt or in trouble,” she said.

“Worried about me?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, dammit!” Molly said.

“I’ll be fine,” he said in an assuring tone of voice. “I promise.” He turned then and continued heading to the kissing booth. Molly and John were right on his heels.

The closer they got the more there was the distinctive sound of the bastard going on about Molly’s reputation. Molly felt her face flame as she began to hear more clearly what he was saying.

“...as frigid as an iceberg! No wonder she chickened out of working the kissing booth.”

“No, it’s because you’re the biggest arse in the country and you’re doing exactly what we’d known you would, causing a ruckus and making it all about your grabby hands.”

“Most women love my ‘grabby hands,’” Moriarty said with a sneer.

“Those women are imbeciles,” Sherlock said as he moved near Moriarty.

Moriarty spun around and looked at Sherlock before turning his gaze to Molly. “I’m not sure you should be speaking about just who is an imbecile, _mate_.”

“I’m no mate of yours,” Sherlock said. “And your presumption of Molly is wrong. She isn’t frigid. You’re just a cunt.”

The gathered crowd gasped as Moriarty sputtered. Molly moved closer to John, knowing this incident could erupt into violence at any moment. She shoved the bear at John. “Hold this,” she said.

John nodded. “Why?”

“I’m going to stop this from becoming an all-out brawl,” she said before stepping into Sherlock’s personal space, grabbing his head and pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss quickly became heated and Sherlock pulled her close as the crowd started to whoop and holler in approval. They only pulled apart when they needed to breathe, and as Molly kept her breath she reached into her pocket and pulled out her last twenty quid and dropped it into Mary’s bucket. “Unless you want to kiss John or Mary, you should leave. Sherlock gets my next nineteen kisses.”

Moriarty’s jaw dropped as the crowd started to snicker at him. It had definitely not gone the way anyone had expected, she could tell, but as Moriarty slunk away and Sherlock pulled her in for one of his nineteen kisses, she had the feeling it ended better for the two of them than either of them could have hoped for.


End file.
